


Are you a fan of delicious flavored schnapps?

by Longcat



Category: Psych
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Pineapple schnapps, Resolved Sexual Tension, Shassie, drunk, liquid courage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 09:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longcat/pseuds/Longcat
Summary: After a particularly rough case Carlton Lassiter needs a distraction, Shawn finds his with the help of some pineapple schnapps.





	Are you a fan of delicious flavored schnapps?

Carlton Lassiter, head detective for the Santa Barba Police, was sitting down for the first time that day. And he was doing so on his own couch at his own apartment, a glass of scotch poured out ready for him to enjoy. He still hadn’t changed out of his suit, but the jacket sat draped over the back of a chair and the first couple of buttons on his shirt were undone. Flicking the TV on he flinched at the sound of screams before quickly changing from whatever cheesy horror movie had come on, it had been a long day. It had been an even longer week. 

They had wrapped up a particularly sick case today. Or rather he had come to the rescue of one fake psychic who, as usual, had found himself far too close to their killer. Yes, he had saved the would be fifth victim but in the process got himself into a compromised position. Carlton would never admit it aloud, but he loathed seeing the consultant in harm’s way just as he would hate any civilian in harm’s way. If anyone asked, that’s exactly how he saw Shawn Spencer, as a civilian. A civilian with an astounding ability that he envied and awed by but it was most certainly not psychic in nature. 

Now he just wanted to relax watching reruns of Cops and try to erase the image of the psychic down on his knees, muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of his head, when they stormed into the room. Tools of some demented idea of torture set aside, stained with the blood of his former victims, and a few with the fresh blood from Spencer. The twisted perpetrator hadn’t gotten the chance to finish what he had started. However the case files and autopsies gave a pretty clear image of just how things could have happened if they hadn’t cracked the cryptic ramblings of the victim Spencer traded himself for. They had arrived just fifteen hours after they had found the victim and got the frantic call from Guster that Shawn was missing. It was still fifteen hours that their psychic detective was in the hands of a mad man. 

A knock on the door pulled Carlton out of his replay of what had gone down. Pushing himself up off the couch he approached the door, scrunching his brows together trying to think of who would be dumb enough to bother a cop, at his place of residence, this late at night. Taking a quick surveillance of the room, making note of each hiding place he had a gun in easy reach, he opened the door a slight crack. Stepping back as the door was pushed in by the same fake psychic he was trying not to think about. 

“Spencer? What are you doing out of the hospital, there is no way that they released you already… Are you drunk?” He carefully watched as the other man staggered into his apartment, hazel eyes darting quickly across the room as if he was assessing it and taking in the details before they settled on him. His eyes already just a thin ring of color around the dark of large pupils. 

“Maaaaybe, but a better question is. Are you, Lassie-pants, a fan of delicious flavor? Because what I have here is most of half of a bottle of the best drink ever.” He lifted the bottle out of the brown paper bag. It was two thirds empty already but the image of a pineapple on the label was clear enough.

“Of course you did.” Carlton mumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the scene presented. Shawn Spencer was drunk on pineapple schnapps and was standing in his house. “How did they let you out? There is no way you could have cleared a psych evaluation so soon.”

“Please Lassie, I can pass a lie detector without once telling the truth. You think just any psychologist can get a read on me? Besides I had more important things to do than get stuck by more needles and be watched under a stethoscope.” He put the bottle down on the small table in front of the couch, freeing his hands up so that he could use them while he talked. The animated actions were slowed from his drinking, but still something Carlton was used to. The familiarity was soothing, it let him know that Spencer was OK after what happened, or mostly OK. 

“I think you mean microscope.” He couldn’t help but correct him.

“I’ve heard it both ways. Don’t you get it? I had to see you. See your salt and pepper haircut of justice, the grumpy scowl that’s hiding your blinding smile, and those baby blues that can almost make me confess dirty, dirty things to you.” He moved closer with each reason until he was in Carlton’s personal space, his hand running up the front of his shirt. The simple touch sending a shiver through the detective. He knew he should push Spencer out of his space and demand he keep his hands to himself, but he didn’t want to. 

“What are you talking about Spencer?” Carlton’s voice dropped to a whisper, he knew he had heard Shawn perfectly but he wasn’t sure if the other man had meant what he had said or if it was all a big joke to him. He searched the other’s face trying to see if there were any tells, or signs to help him, however Spencer’s face was unreadable other than that smirk. 

“I know you heard me, I can sense that you did. Loud and clear.” The smell of pineapples mixed with the scent of hair products. Two things he never thought he would enjoy together but he couldn’t help but take in a deep smell with his proximity. 

“You’re not psychic.” The accusation rolled off his tongue, barely a whisper. His hands twitched as he tried keeping them at his sides instead of running them over the body in front of him. 

“Don’t need to be psychic to know I like you.” Their noses were really close as Spencer looked up at him. It wouldn’t take much to lean in and kiss him senseless. Carlton wanted to, sweet justice, he wanted to, but he had to remind himself that Spencer was drunk and he was not. But that admission was something he couldn’t ignore. All the flailing and touching done during his so-called psychic episodes were his way of flirting, he was purposely trying to get him hot and bothered, trying to get his attention. 

“That’s not how psychics work.” Their lips brushed together as he said it. 

“But if you were the psychic you would know I needed you to be there in the hospital. Instead I had to come find you. I needed to tell you something.” The comment wasn’t meant to be barbed but it still struck something in Carlton, causing him to feel regret for not going in to check on the consultant. 

“With alcohol?” he was stalling now, anything to keep himself from losing his self-control and taking advantage of the drunk man who was in his space, pushing his buttons, and running his hand through the hairs on the back of his head. He leaned into that feeling, it had been so long since anyone had touched him in such a way. 

“I can see now that I didn’t need the alcohol. I can get drunk enough off you Lassie.” Spencer closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together. Instead of pulling back like he expected the detective to, Shawn was surprised by strong hands coming up and gripping at him. Their kiss intensified as repressed needs were let go, Shawn stumbled as he took steps backwards being lead across the room, hands holding his hip and elbow so he didn’t lose his balance. Tongues fought for dominance as he backed into a wall, the hallway to his right. His head thumped into the painted drywall, the dull echo ignored as a growl escaped Lassiter.

“Don’t you dare do that again.” He said pulling just far enough back to give them room to breathe. Shawn could see the predatory and possessive glint in his blue eyes, his shoulders rising and falling with labored breathing. “Shawn, I will kill you myself if you get yourself hurt on another case.”

Before he could come up with a witty remark or movie reference his mouth was occupied once again. Carlton kissed like he was fighting for something he could easily lose but wouldn’t give up. And in a way, that’s exactly what it was. The admission of the psychic’s true feelings for him was all he needed to give into his own feelings. Things he had pushed down for years because he was afraid of his heart breaking again and again. 

His hands grabbed at Shawn’s body but were careful to avoid any of the areas that were bandaged from the torture he endured at the hands of that lunatic. He needed to erase those memories his own mind supplied of what had happened before he had gotten there to save him. And from the keening noises being made into their kiss, Shawn needed the same. Giving a little more force into his actions, Shawn moved Carlton to the wall opposite them in the hallway.

Instead of pinning the older man to the wall Shawn was the one to break the kiss this time, dropping down to his knees. His fingers working the button and fly on his slacks, touching and caressing as he did. The sensations caused Carlton to drop his head, lidded eyes watching as Shawn pulled his erection out of his pants. Licking the full length up it before he took it into his mouth, earning a grunt from the detective. Shawn smiled as he bobbed his head up and down, swirling his tongue around the head while his hand stroked what he couldn’t take in. 

Lassiter was holding himself back as best as he could. He wanted to push back, to fuck into his warm mouth. Instead he buried his hands into Shawn’s hair, fingers tightening around the stiff product filled hair as he grabbed what he could. The tugging and pulling caused Shawn to moan around him, vibrations traveling up into his balls. Unable to help it he bucked his hips at the intense feeling. Shawn sped up his rhythm, sometimes moving erratically to get Carlton to pull harder on his hair. Between the hot, wet, talented mouth of Shawn and the soft needy moans coming from him, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

A growl built up low in his chest as he felt his balls tighten, to warn Shawn he tried pulled him back but the younger man dove back in and tightened the suction he had on him. That sent him over the edge Shawn’s name on the tip of his tongue. Shawn eagerly gulped down everything he gave and licked him clean. With those hazel eyes looking up at him, Carlton didn’t care where that mouth had just been as he yanked him to his feet and kissed him hard. His own salty taste mingled with the sweetness of pineapple and something that was purely Shawn. 

“What was that all about?” His voice was husky as he asked, he could feel Shawn’s own erection pressed against his thigh as he held him tight against him. Not letting him forget that he was the only one to have gotten off. 

“I think we both needed better memories of me on my knees.” He smirked before kissing him back, slow and sweet. The desperation was no longer there but he still rocked into Lassiter, grinding into him. He moaned softly into the kiss when Carlton’s hand squeezed his ass, those long fingers digging into his firm flesh, pulling him closer.

“Bedroom’s at the end of the hall, want to make more?” He asked, wrapping his other hand around his wrist and leading him gently. He had lost his earlier control, but he couldn’t go back and didn’t want to change that now. Shawn had an idea of how he felt, and he had an idea that feeling was reciprocated. He didn’t think it would affect their work dynamic as he would still be annoyed by Spencer’s antics in crime scenes and his disrespect for the honest line of police work, but he really hoped it would change how they interacted outside of work. Pushing him back into his bed he got his own psychic premonition that outside of work things would be a lot better between them.  For once Carlton was pleased by the actions of one Shawn Spencer.


End file.
